Chasing Rainbows
by amayj
Summary: When your life is ripped out from beneath you, and a new foreign life replaces the old, how do you react? Clary's reality is skewed, after an accident tears her of the past six years of her life. AU JxC
1. Prologue

_"Wake me up inside (I can't wake up), wake me up inside (save me)._

_Call my name and save me from the dark"_

**Bring Me To Life – Evanescence**

**Prologue**

I saw colors strip past me: black, electric blue, red, purple, green, pink, gold.

I didn't know where I was, or how I got there.

I was cold. I was alone.

It was suddenly dark. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face.

_So this is what it's like to die._

It's just one of those things.

I remember meeting Simon on the first day of school. He told me that my lunch box was almost bigger than my head. I don't think he was trying to hurt my feelings, but I told him that if he didn't watch out I'd hit him over the head with my lunch box, and he could see how big my lunch box looked up close. He laughed, and then I laughed and we decided to sit next to each other in class. We've been inseparable ever since.

Well, we were inseparable. Before I decided to die anyway.

The last significant thing I remember about Simon and I was the day we graduated. He told me that he was glad I grew into my head, and I told him that at least one of us did.

All of a sudden, the ground was ripped from beneath my feet. Even though I couldn't see, I could feel myself falling. I tried to scream, but no sound escaped my mouth.

It was like being drowned.

I felt so empty, an inexplicable loss.

The colors flashed by me again: black, electric blue, red, purple, green, pink, gold, gold, gold.

I felt no pain. My eyes started to shut, even though the darkness behind my eyelids was the same as the one in front of it.

I heard someone screaming my name.

_Don't give up._

But I wasn't giving up. I was accepting that my life was ebbing away. I decided it really wasn't that cold.

I noticed an irritating noise. It sounded distant, but that didn't stop it from being annoying. I felt my face rearrange into a scowl.

That's when I felt it. _Pain._

_Go away. _I thought. _Let me die in peace._

I felt it again, and I stopped sinking. I was pulled upwards, like a puppet on a string.

I couldn't figure out which way I was more afraid of; sinking further into the abyss below, or rising to the unknown.

I then realized that regardless of which way I went, I would end up in the same place.

That was when I broke through the surface. My lungs screamed at the air, and my mind went blank.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

* * *

__**I honestly never thought I'd write fanfiction again. I thought of this story about two years ago, but have never been able to write it. **

**Let me know what you think, and whether or not I should continue. Sorry it's so short! **

**Take it easy,**

**amayj**


	2. Chapter 1

_"One minute I held the key,_ _next the walls were closed on me._

_And I discovered that my castles stand,_ _upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand."_

**Viva la Vida – Coldplay**

**Chapter 1**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The slow, rhythmic beeping woke me from my sleep. I wasn't sure how long I'd been out, but it felt like longer than my normal eight-hour night.

The first thing I noticed was that it took a little more effort than usual to open my eyes. It felt like they were glued shut. How long had I slept for? And what did I _do _last night to make me feel so strange? I took a second to think about it, but drew an absolute blank.

Weird.

After a minute or two, I was able to slowly open my eyes, and they gradually came into focus.

A white ceiling. I definitely wasn't at home, my room being slightly off-white, closer to cream than the blinding whiteness this room offered.

The blinding whiteness, combined with the annoying beeping noise, I figured I must be in the hospital. I shut my eyes again, and slowly moved my neck in a circular motion, feeling the bones click back into place. It was one of those feelings that was so bad, but felt good. I was hesitant to open my eyes and take a look at myself, not wanting to see what damage I had done this time; and moving carefully, not wanting to cause myself any _more_ damage if possible.

My neck was stiff, but it didn't exactly hurt to move.

I knew there was no use in waiting to find out what was wrong; I was bound to find out sooner or later. I resigned myself to the situation, expecting the worst but hoping for the best.

I was lying almost flat, with my head slightly raised on the bed, but I still had to move my chin to a point where it was almost touching my chest to be able to gauge my surroundings after I opened my eyes.

I was in the hospital, as I had already guessed. I was in a private room, which I felt was a bit of a concern. What had I done to myself that warranted me a private room? How was my mom paying for it? And how long had I been here?

A warm blanket covered me, so I couldn't see what injuries I had caused myself. I wonder why I can't remember what happened. Maybe I hit my head, causing temporary amnesia.

I snorted. _Amnesia. _I thought. _Simon will get a kick out of that one._

That's when I noticed a flash of gold in my peripheral vision. I turned my head slightly, and found a golden man sitting beside me, his head rested lightly on his arm on the edge of my bed. He looked like an angel.

I wondered what I'd done to myself to merit a visit from such a lovely creature. An angel. I had always generally believed that angels only came if you were dead, which I clearly wasn't.

His hair looked like woven gold. It was exactly as I had always imagined the woven gold would look like, from the fairytale Rumpelstiltskin. I reached out to touch it, to see if it felt as lovely as it looked.

As I stroked his hair, the man sighed and moved. My eyes widened and I yanked my hand back immediately.

I fought the urge to scream. I guess he isn't an angel.

So what is he doing here with me? He isn't a nurse or a doctor; he was dressed far too casually for that. Plus he was asleep in a patient's room. That's kind of unprofessional.

_Maybe he came into my room last night by accident. Maybe his wife's next door._

This made me chuckle to myself. _How embarrassing._

I decided I would hop out of bed and go and find Simon or my mom. One of them had to be around somewhere.

I slowly pulled the covers off my body, and inspected the damage. I was pleasantly surprised to see that I still had all my arms and legs, fingers and toes. I had a few cuts and bruises on my arms and legs that I could see, but no casts that would keep me immobile. I could wiggle my toes, so I figured my spine was all right. I slowly sat up. I had a little bit of pain in my abdomen, but overall I felt all right.

I could see my reflection in the mirror in the bathroom once I was sitting up. I squinted at myself.

I still looked the same…sort of. It was like the edges of my reflection were blurred, like I'd drawn myself with watercolors. I was still the same, but something was different.

I still had the same red hair that I'd always had, the same nose, the same face that I always had, the one that was so alike to my mothers. I tilted my head to the side and inspected myself, and raised my hand to touch the side of my face. Even in the dim light I could see that my eyes were still green.

_Maybe I did hit my head, and I'm coming out of a concussion. That's why I feel a bit weird. _I thought to myself. It seemed to be the only logical explanation.

Forgetting all about the golden stranger resting his head on my bed, I slid off, causing the bed to shift, which was enough for to wake the golden mystery man up.

_Oops. _I thought to myself. I decided to try and sneak out before he noticed me but-

"Clary?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. I turned to face the golden man. Strange. His eyes were gold too.

_I must have hit my head harder than I thought._

He smiled at me, dazzlingly. I wondered if his teeth might be gold, because the rest of him seemed that way. Golden skin, golden hair, golden eyes.

I looked toward the door, and then back to the mysterious stranger.

He stood up, and I took a step back.

"How do you know my name?" I asked him. "Who are you?"

My words stopped him in his tracks. Hurt clouded his eyes, before concern masked his face. I noticed he was fiddling with a finger on his left hand. Spinning a ring around his fourth finger. A wedding band.

"Clary, it's me, Jace," he said carefully. I looked at him closely. I still didn't recognize him, his name didn't sound familiar to me.

_Maybe he's an escaped psycho from the psycho ward._

He took a step toward me, and I moved toward the call button. Unfortunately to move toward the button I had to step closer to him. He seemed to take it as a sign of encouragement.

"Don't you remember me Clary?" He asked, almost pleadingly. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"I'm pretty sure I'd remember someone like you." I pinched myself, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. He noticed, and he got a funny look on his face. It made me very uneasy, so I grabbed and pressed the call button down.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" he asked, moving closer to me now. I started panicking, and pushed down the call button several times.

"No, but please stop it. I know that Simon must think this is a really funny joke but it's not. You're scaring me,"

"Simon?"

He sucked in a breath, and was by my side in an instant. I screamed as he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to fully face him. I tried to fight him, but felt an awful pain in my stomach. I kept screaming and crying as he was shaking my wrists. He pulled up my left hand and I saw the gold band around my fourth finger.

"But Clary, you must remember! It's me, Jace! I'm your husband!"

I kept screaming as someone burst into the room. Within an instant the golden man was pulled away from me and I fell to the floor, in the fetal position. The pain in my abdomen got worse when the man was pulled of me. I felt as though I'd been torn in half, and all my insides were going to fall out. I couldn't breathe.

I looked down to see a bloodstain on the front of my gown. I couldn't breathe, as the stain got larger.

Two people lifted me on my bed, two more people I didn't know. This made me scream harder, and I saw the golden man being pulled out of my room, with a look of panic in his eyes, yelling out to me.

"Clary! Clary!"

A woman wearing a nurse uniform pushed me onto the bed and ripped my gown open. I sobbed, and attempted to cover myself up, before my hands were pulled away.

There was a gaping hole in my stomach. There was blood everywhere. I sucked in a breath that didn't seem to give me any more oxygen. I kept trying to breathe, but it was like there was something in my lungs blocking air from going in.

The woman in the uniform was then in my face.

"Clary, we need you to calm down. My name is Anne, and I'm a nurse at the hospital. You've ripped a couple of your stitches and we need to fix it up for you. Is that okay?"

I felt nauseous and I knew I was going to be sick. I was still trying to get air in, and I was so cold. I wanted my mom.

"Wh-wh-where's my m-m-mom?" I asked the nurse, through chattering teeth.

"She's on her way honey," The nurse replied, stroking my hair. "I need you to focus on your breathing, okay? Ready, in and out, in and out," The nurse said to me.

I tried to focus on my breathing, but I still couldn't get any in. I could see black spots in front of my eyes, and I wondered if I was going to die.

"I'm going to be sick," I told her. She shook her head at me.

"No you aren't, you're going to be fine. Just keep focusing on your breathing. We're going to give you something for the pain now."

I felt the sting of a needle, and nausea washed over me again. I started retching clutching at my stomach, before another set of hands tore mine away. But not before I felt the wetness that was my own blood.

And that was the final thing I saw before I fainted.

My own blood on my hands.


	3. Chapter 2

_"Their tears are filling up their glasses_,

_No expression, no expression_.

_Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow,_

_No tomorrow, no tomorrow." _

_**Mad World – Gary Jules**_

**Chapter 2**

I woke, feeling as though I had been run over by a truck. It took me a few minutes to remember what had happened- the golden man, the pain, _the blood._

I still couldn't remember what had happened to me. The last thing I remembered before waking up in the hospital was getting ready to leave for college at the end of summer. I wonder how much time has passed, and whether I'll still be able to go for my first semester. I suppose it's not really something I should be worried about now.

I'm really glad they took that crazy gold man away. I look down at my left hand. The gold band is still around my fourth finger. It looks weird, and I wonder how it got there. It makes my hand feel slightly heavier than it normally does. I wonder why I didn't notice the ring before it was put in my face. It makes my entire body feel off-balance.

I also wonder how it got there. I think I would remember if I got married. Hell, I think I'd remember if I had a boyfriend!

I was debating with myself as to whether I should pull it off and chuck it away when someone came into my room.

"Clary,"

I looked up.

"Mom," I said softly. I felt tears burn in my eyes, and I tears blatantly ran down my mother's face. She came to my side, and gently gathered me into a hug.

"I'm so glad you're all right," she whispered, holding me tightly. I could tell she was being extra careful, and gentle, as if I was going to break.

"I'm okay mom. I'm just glad you're here," I told her, and she pulled back to look at me. She sat down on the edge of my bed, her eyes scanning my face. I grabbed one of her hands as more tears ran silently down her face.

"I was so worried that I was going to lose you," she said, touching my face with her other hand. I held her hand tightly.

"I didn't mean to scare you mom." I replied softly. I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.

"Mom, I was so scared. I woke up here all alone, and I didn't know where I was or what happened to me," she gathered me into her arms again, shushing me softly.

"And then there was that crazy golden guy who was in here, he scared me so much mom. Why weren't you here?" She stiffened a bit at the mention of the gold man. I guess she didn't like him either.

Maybe he really had escaped from another ward.

"I'm so sorry baby. I was here earlier but I had to go and get some coffee. But I won't leave you alone now." She pulled back and looked me in the eye. "And the doctor will be here soon."

I wanted to wipe the tears off her face, wipe the sad, broken expression off her face. I tried to smile for her, and she smiled a little for me.

"Mom," I started. "What happened to me?"

She sighed, and put her hand back on my face.

"You were in a car accident. And we're all so worried about you Clary. That you don't remember. But the doctor will be here soon to explain it all to you."

I rested my head back on my pillows and sighed.

"And where is Simon?" My mom recoiled at the mention of Simon's name.

"What?" I asked her. Simon is my best friend, and it was so unlike him to not just barge into my room and yell at me for giving him a scare, before going on to tell me about his gaming, or his new band name. Had we gotten in to a fight?

"Let's just wait until the doctor gets here, and then we'll talk about other things." She looked at the clock. "She'll be here any minute now.

I didn't like how she blatantly ignored my question. She knows how important Simon is to me.

Unless…he was in the accident with me? My eyes widened and I turned to her to ask when the doctor arrived.

She looked like she was in her mid-thirties. She had short brown hair, and dark eyes. She smiled at me. She had a nice smile. It made me feel safe and reassured. She had a blue stethoscope around her neck, and blue glasses tucked into the pocket of her shirt. I still wondered about Simon, but I knew it could wait. I'd find out soon enough. I still didn't know what had happened to me. I could be just overreacting and dramatizing the whole thing. I sucked in a breath.

"Good morning Clary," the doctor started, "my name is Dr. Branwell. How are you feeling today?"

"I feel fine. Just confused." I answered.

"Sometimes after accidents such as these, people are a little confused. I'm just going to ask you a few questions and then we'll go from there, okay?" I nodded.

"So can you tell me your full name?"

"Clarissa Adele Fray," The doctor looked at me for a split second before making a note and continuing.

"And what is your date of birth?"

"23 May 1988"

"And do you know where you are?"

"Um, the hospital? Sorry, I'm a little disoriented. There's quiet a few hospitals near where we live…"

Dr. Branwell nodded, before making a note on her clipboard.

"Yes, I can understand that Clary. As long as you know you're in hospital, that's just fine. Are you okay to keep going?"

I nodded. She continued with her questions.

"Do you know what today's date is?"

What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course I don't, I've been sleeping for God knows how long. I decided to guess.

"Um, I'm not sure of the specific date, but it's August 2005,"

I heard my mother suck in a breath, and I looked over at her. She smiled at me, but it didn't reach her eyes, and seemed a little forced. I guess I must have been out longer than I thought.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how long I was sleeping – or in a coma for,"

"That's fine Clary," the doctor responded, smiling at me. I felt a bit better, and let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in.

"Do you know what happened to you?" Dr. Branwell continued. _Finally, _I thought.

"All I know is that I was in a car accident. I only know that because my mom just told me. I don't even remember it." I told the doctor, who nodded.

"It's perfectly normal for a person to not remember a traumatic incident, such as a car accident, when it caused extensive injuries as yours did." I looked over to my mother. She was clasping her hands together, her knuckles white showing how hard she was gripping, her eyes wide open and crazed looking. She didn't seem to be able to see me looking at her. I thought about the gold band weighing my left hand down, and started to feel the panic seeping into my chest.

"Can you tell me what happened?" I asked Dr. Branwell. She looked at me, as if assessing as to whether I could handle what she was going to say. She must have thought I could, because she went on. I squished down the panic I could feel in my chest, focusing on listening to what Dr. Branwell was saying.

"You were driving home one night, and stopped at a red light. Unfortunately, the person behind you wasn't paying attention, and didn't stop in time. Your car was forced out into traffic, where another car hit yours."

"Wow." I didn't really know how to respond to this, because I had obviously survived, and I honestly didn't remember any of it. I didn't feel traumatized, or stressed. I wasn't reliving the accident. I honestly felt fine. The only thing that was scaring me was my mother's obvious distress.

"Sounds intense" I finished lamely. Dr. Branwell nodded. She was about to go on, when I felt someone staring at me. I looked out the door and saw him. The crazy gold man. He was watching me from outside, standing next to a very beautiful woman. She had black hair piled on her head in a bun, and had obviously been crying. Her eyes were puffy and red, and there were remnants of mascara stains on her cheeks. I wondered why she had been crying.

I wondered why they were both staring at me.

"He's back," I said, interrupting Dr. Branwell who had been saying something else. I turned to my mother.

"Please don't let him hurt me,"

Dr. Branwell sighed.

"Clary, I really need you to listen to me," she said, shutting the door to my room so that I could no longer see the crazy gold man staring at me with his sad eyes.

"As I was saying, you actually received a very bad head injury. At first, we were very worried that you might not recover any cognition, or recover to a conscious state. Your family was very relieved when our tests came back showing your mind was still functioning, and important areas of your brain were still intact. We did have to wait until you woke up before we could be sure of anything though," she finished. I didn't really see what the point of this was. Yes, I was fine. I already knew that. She went to go on, but then I remembered about Simon.

"Was anyone else in the accident with me?" I asked her before she started her next statement.

"No Clary, you were the sole passenger in your car." I breathed a sigh of relief.

_At least Simon is all right. I think._

"The other drivers had injuries, but were all fine. You, however, had a serious head injury, and serious internal bleeding. We have a few things we need to discuss about your injuries, and your recovery. Which brings me back to what we were talking about."

She took a deep breath. She looked so uncertain. This put me on edge, as it was the first time she hadn't made me feel safe in her presence.

"Clary, we think you have amnesia." My breath came out fast, and I laughed a little.

"Oh, Dr. Branwell. I thought you were going to say I was going to die. You had me worried for a second there! _Amnesia_?" I said. Amnesia isn't that bad. She had just said that it was normal for a person to not remember if they're in a traumatic accident!

"It's a bit more serious than that Clary," Dr. Branwell said.

_Whatever, _I thought. So I never remember the stupid car accident. _So what_.

"Sweetheart, listen to what Dr. Branwell is telling you. You need to understand." My mom said. She sounded really worried. Her eyes were still huge, and still had that wild glint.

"Sorry Dr. Branwell," I said, "please continue."

"Clary, that man out there, the one with the blonde hair who was in your room yesterday?" I nodded in understanding. "You know him. You just don't remember him,"

_Oh. _I thought. I felt a little bit bad about how I'd screamed at him, but really, how did he expect me to react? He was a strange man, in my room. Wait a second-

"But he said he was my husband. I don't have a husband. And when did I meet him? And-" It hit me. I had _amnesia. _

I couldn't breathe.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. He is your husband. You just don't remember-"

"No." I answered. "No. I'm only eighteen mom, I'm far too young to be married. And I would never marry someone on a whim, you _know _that mom. What's happening?"

I looked at her for consolation, but she just stared sadly back at me. I turned to Dr. Branwell.

"Clary, you think it's 2005. And you're eighteen. But in actual fact it's 2012, and you're twenty-four years old."

I was struck dumb.

Six years. _Six years of my life amnesia had taken from me? _

It was just so ridiculous, and impossible. And it was what is happening to me.

"Are you sure?" I asked quietly. Dr. Branwell nodded.

"I am so sorry Clary. The type of amnesia you appear to have is called retrograde amnesia. This means you are able to make new memories, as seen by your recognizing Jace – the blonde man – from yesterday, but you are unable to remember some of your past memories."

"Will I ever get my memories back?" I asked her. I didn't really want the answer to that question. What if I didn't want those memories back? What if I'm a completely different person now, someone who I don't even like?

"It's possible. But only time will tell. I don't want to give you false hope, but I don't want to make you feel like you have nothing to gain. Clary, people do live through this, and you will too. But we'll just start with some baby steps for now, how does that sound?"

I nodded, and looked at my lap. To my surprise, tears fell into my lap. I was crying.

I scrubbed hastily at my face.

"Clary?" I snapped my head up to my mother's voice. "Jace – the guy outside – he really wants to see you. It's okay if you don't want him to come in, but if you're up to it…" she trailed off.

I thought about it. I didn't really want to see him, or talk to him. The idea of a husband made my skin crawl. The idea of me going from being eighteen, to twenty-four seemingly overnight made an unpleasant shiver run up my spine. I didn't want to meet my husband – Jace. I didn't want to meet him, or get to know him, not yet. I just wanted familiarity; I wanted my home, my bed. I wanted Simon. I wanted Luke, my mom's boyfriend. Another unpleasant thought ran through my mind – it had been _six years._ Were my mother and Luke still together? Did they get married? What else has changed? Am I still an artist? Are Simon and I even friends anymore?

Who am I?

This brought me back to my husband. Jace. If anyone was going to be able to answer my questions, I hoped it would be him. After all, I did marry the guy. It'd be strange if he didn't know me. And if I married him, I suppose he couldn't be that bad.

I nodded to my mother, who stood.

"No!" I said, clasping her hand in mine. "Please, don't go,"

She smiled at me.

"I'm not going anywhere Clary. I'm just going to get him,"

"I'll get him if you like Jocelyn," Dr. Branwell said. "I'll make sure he fully understands the situation before he comes in, and takes it nice and slow for Clary. He is a complete stranger to her," she finished. "I'll see you later Clary, let me know if you need anything."

I nodded at her, and she left the room.

I sighed.

"I don't know what's more scary. The fact that I have amnesia, or the fact that I have a husband," I said, trying to lighten the mood. My mom smiled at me.

"I never had any doubt that you would find a husband baby. But the fact that you have amnesia scares me so much. You're so brave, Clary, so much more than I am. And I am so proud of you. You're going to get your memories back, don't you worry. Even if I have to take you through all of them myself."

I bit my lip. I know she was only trying to be helpful, but she didn't really understand. I guess I understand that she wants me to regain my memories, because that's who she knows me as now. Future Clary. But I don't know who that person is. What if they aren't me?

Do I really want my memories back if it means that the person I am now is going to be washed away?

I decided not to say anything to my mom. She'd only get upset.

"So," I started, brushing some of my red hair off my face. "Tell me all about future Clary. What am I like? What do I do?"

My mom smiled, and smoothed the hair I'd just pushed back down.

"I'll let Jace tell you all about "future Clary". But I will tell you, that future Clary loves Jace very much." She kissed my forehead, just as the door opened again.

I guess I can't call him crazy gold man anymore.

_This man is my husband,_ I thought, and suppressed a shudder. It's strange to be married to someone you don't know at all. I don't understand how people can do arranged marriages.

"Hi Clary," he said softly.

"Hi," I said back to him. He walked over a sat next to my bed, on the opposite side of my mom. I looked at her, but she just nodded encouragingly.

"So, I'm Jace," he said. I just nodded. I didn't know what to say to this guy. He knew a different me, and that wasn't who I am now. It's just so confusing, and I'm still waiting for someone to jump out at say that this is all a joke.

And believe me, I really want to punch that person in the face.

But no dice. Apparently, this is real life.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I love you. I really love reviews, so I appreciate any time you take out to review this chapter.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Hopefully the next one won't take as long as this one did!**

**Take it easy,**

**amayj**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments, and unfortunately am not affiliated with any of the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**


	4. Chapter 3

_"The wound heals but it never does,  
That's cause you're at war with love.  
You're at war with love, yeah._

_These battle scars, don't look like they're fading,_  
_Don't look like they're ever going away._  
_They ain't never gonna change,_

_These battle…"_

**Battle Scars – Guy Sebastian ft. Lupe Fiasco**

**Chapter 3**

I took a chance to have a good look at Jace. He was very attractive. It wasn't something I had really focused on earlier, because I didn't know who he was, or why he was in my room. But he was very, very, good looking.

Oh screw it. He's _hot_. He smells amazing, and seems to ooze sex appeal. This made me very nervous. How did I catch such a good-looking guy?

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not hideously disfigured or anything, I can appreciate that I am a decent looking female.

But this guy – Jace, is so out of my league, it's hilarious. I snort a little bit, which he looks concerned about. I don't address it, and hope that he just stays quiet a little bit longer. I still don't feel I can talk to him yet.

His eyes searched my face, as mine searched his. He had a chip in one of his front teeth, which offset his symmetrical face perfectly. As my eyes reached his, it took me a few seconds to realize that we were both just staring in each other's eyes I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. I shook my head, and he frowned slightly.

In an almost innate way, I wanted to wipe the frown off his face, smooth the crinkles from his forehead. To remove that sad look from his eyes, the way a person wants to fix a hurt puppy. He was so beautiful, and was looking at me with the most broken expression – it made me feel so guilty. I don't know why I felt that way. I guess I was still a little messed up from the accident. And maybe something so lovely and perfect looking, it's natural for a person to want to fix it, and make it better.

He looked away from me, and dropped his head into his hands. This confused me even further. Was he really happy to see me? Or was this accident just a convenience so that he can ditch me? And who is the beautiful girl with the long dark hair outside?

I ran a hand through my hair. It was a lot longer than I remember it. I had just had it cut to just below my shoulders, the last time I remember. But now it hangs halfway down my back, long, red and curly.

It makes me wonder what I look like. I haven't actually seen myself up close. Would I look older, or god forbid, have any wrinkles? And I know that this is a very shallow thing to worry about, but it's been six years. My perception of reality is warped. I have no idea what I'm expecting.

I noticed that Jace was looking at me again, with his gold eyes. His eyes were lovely, like warm honey.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "This is all so weird for me, I am just trying to figure out where I stand,"

"Please don't be sorry," he said quietly. "None of this is your fault." I swallowed, and fiddled with the ends of my hair.

Jace made a frustrated noise, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.

"Everything is just so screwed up. It's just so unfair for you Clary," he looked up to me again. "I'm a complete stranger to you. Even though I've known you for a long time now, you don't know me from the next guy. And you've lost all of the lovely memories we made together. There are things we might not get back. Like when we met. Or when I proposed, or our wedding, or anything!"

I didn't like the direction he was going with this. I understand his frustration, but aren't I the one who just went through the traumatic accident? My breath sped up as he continued, his eyes flashing.

"We're just going to have to retrace our steps. I'm going to help you get your memories back if it's the last thing I do. Don't worry about a thing. I'm going to take good care of you, and show you what your life is like.

You have an art studio Clary! Your own studio, and you have art in galleries and showings, I can show you pictures of different events we've gone to together, to see your art! It's what you always wanted, and together we accomplished your dreams!"

He took my hand in his. His hand was large, and warm, but foreign. I stiffened immediately. He noticed the change, and quickly let go. His eyes widened in horror, and he apologized, but I had had enough.

"Please, just please stop. I need you to stop talking. I need you to shut up and listen to me." He snapped his mouth shut, his eyes wide, terrified, and maybe even hurt. I didn't really care this time, because I just needed him to stop saying what he was saying. I took a deep breath.

"You're saying all these things Jace, about memories, and marriage, and I can't handle it. I need you to understand, that the person you know, the Clary that you know? That is _not _me. I am not that girl. The girl you know is twenty-four, chose to date and marry you, and has lived six years longer than I have. Inside my mind, I am only eighteen. And you need to stop, with the '_I'll get your memory back if it's the last thing I do,_' stuff. It's freaking me out. Do you understand how uncomfortable this is for me?"

"I'm sorry, Clary. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around this whole situation. I'm dealing with it so badly, and I'm so sorry."

"Please stop saying sorry. Can we just slow down? I just need you to understand, that whomever the Clary Fray is that you know – that's not me. But I do want to know about her. But for now, can we just start at the beginning?"

"Of course we can. I'd love to. What do you want to know? Where do you want to start?" he said.

"I don't know. I don't know where to start, the last thing I remember-" I broke off. The last thing I remembered was being with Simon, getting ready to go to college. His brow furrowed, and he looked concerned. I wasn't ready to talk about Simon – not yet. Not when I wasn't sure what happened, and I wasn't sure how Jace felt about the whole Simon situation.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn't want to hear it, so I cut him off.

"Just – just tell me about you. I want to know about you."

"Do you want to know anything specific, or just a general overview?" His blasé response made me choke in nervous laughter. He was speaking of himself as if he were talking of the weather. He smiled at me. I cleared my throat.

"Just start with the basics and we'll work from there." I figured I could just roll with the punches from now. Ask questions to encourage or discourage certain topics. Unfortunately, even though I've drawn the shortest straw in this awful situation, others are suffering and I'm going to have to learn to be flexible.

"Well, my name is Jace Wayland. I'm twenty-five years old. I'm an engineer."

He paused to gauge my reaction. I nodded encouragingly for him to continue.

"I'm adopted. My birth name is Jonathon Christopher Wayland, but I have not gone by Jonathon since I was nine years old. A family – the Lightwoods, adopted me, and I considered them to be my true family, until I met you."

"How did we meet?" I interrupted. I knew there was more to his story, but he brought this up, and I wanted to know. He smiled at me, and his eyes crinkled in the corners. I could see that he was remembering a fond memory. That was hard for me to digest, as light was shining so obviously from his face, that I couldn't deny it. However, I couldn't remember what he remembered so fondly. That made my stomach twist uncomfortably. I hope I hadn't done anything too embarrassing.

"Well, it was just after you started college," he started. _So probably about a month after what I remember. _I thought. It was a little strange to think that one month after my memory ends, I met the man that I went on to marry. However I managed to pull that one off anyway. His voice drew me back to the present.

"You were at a coffee shop with a friend – it was a poetry reading. My sister has dragged me along, because we had only recently moved to the area and basically I think she just wanted to check out the local boys. Anyway, you were sitting with your friend in the corner of the room, and I immediately noticed you."

"Noticed me? Why, what was I doing?" I asked, prepared to be mortified.

"Your hair was quite distinctive. And you were the only girl in the room who I had noticed that hadn't noticed me." He replied, chuckling. "I was slightly more vain and self obsessed back then.

Your friend was totally immersed in the poetry, but you weren't really interested. You were too busy sketching on a napkin, and sipping at your coffee. You just seemed so…different. Instead of trying to draw attention to yourself by making noises, or dressing inappropriately, you were quiet and kept to yourself. You wore clothes that made you comfortable – jeans, shirts. You were just so obviously happy and comfortable with who you are, that I couldn't help but look. And I wasn't the only one who noticed."

I felt my breathing get shallower, as Jace's eyes seemed to shine brighter. He looked at me with a look of – pride? Joy? I wasn't sure, but it felt like he could see inside me, see through me, as though he had x-ray vision. He spoke so lovingly, carefully about me, in such a sensitive way that it sent shivers up my spine. These shivers made me feel uncomfortable about how much he knew me, and how I couldn't control my reactions to him. Was it possible that my body remembered what my mind didn't?

"I watched you – not in a stalker way – through the whole poetry reading, trying to pluck up the courage to speak to you." He continued. "It was a first for me – Jace Wayland, not knowing how to speak to a girl? But I knew you were different, right from the first moment that I saw you. And I knew that I had to treat you differently.

At the end of the reading, when I finally decided to speak to you, I kept repeating to myself, _don't screw this up_ _Wayland._ I don't remember the exact details, but I just introduced myself, that I was new in town. After we spoke for a few minutes, you invited me, and my brother and sister to an event that you and your friend were going to that night. I saw you again that night, when you gave me your number. You also gave it to my sister, who you were becoming fast friends with. But I had hope, that you might see beyond the stereotype that guys like me normally get."

"And I guess that I did?" I asked. His story was so lovely, that I wasn't sure that it could be true. However, apart from his embellishments regarding myself, some of the factual information sounded correct. Poetry reading – probably Simon's friend Eric. I was probably with Simon when I met Jace. Although I wasn't sure why Jace wouldn't just speak about Simon…maybe he's just trying to not overload me with too much information at once, seeing as I had no idea what was going on regarding Simon's whereabouts. I decided I could let that one slide for now.

"You did," he answered. "You didn't seem to stereotype me at all. You didn't seem interested in me for ages – I wasn't sure you liked me a whole lot at first to be honest."

I felt my eyebrows rise. A beautiful stranger thought that a plain Jane like myself wasn't interested? Odd notion. Although, I have no idea what he was like, so maybe I didn't like he. Maybe he didn't appear to have the substance that he seems to have now.

"You told me later, that you initially had stereotyped me – you thought I was very shallow, and was looking to hook up with you and your friends. But you said the notion didn't last long, you were just so worried that you were misinterpreting the signs, and you didn't want to get hurt.

Mostly, what I myself remember is your extraordinary kindness to a stranger."

His words were so sweet, and appeared so sincere. I didn't know this guy from a bar of soap, how was I to know if he was actually sincere? However, his golden eyes were shining, which gave me a feeling of sincerity, and I could actually see a guy there that I could understand myself having some sort of feelings for. Not that I actually felt those feelings.  
For example, I could see myself having feelings for Simon, but I never had feelings for him, and he never had feelings for me. We were like brother and sister.

"Wow. It sounds like we had a little bit of a fairytale whirlwind romance," I said, which made my stomach squeeze again. He chuckled.

"No, not really. We had good times, great times, and then our fair share of bad times. But we always came out on top, stronger than before.

And I know about your feelings about 'whirlwind romances'. We actually dated for over two years, and married just before our third year anniversary. We're coming up on our third year wedding anniversary in a couple of months."

"So for the majority of the six – nearly seven – years that I've lost, I was with you." I pressed my palms to my eyes. "I appreciate that this must be difficult for you, but it's impossible for me." I dropped my hands and looked at Jace. The sad look had returned to his eyes, and he had a small, twisted smile on his face. He took my hand, and gently squeezed it. It felt reassuring, and this time I didn't pull away. I figured I had to get used to it. He let go of my hand, ran a hand through his hair and then blew out a sigh.

"Life isn't fair, it's just fairer than death." He stated. My brow furrowed.

"You know Oscar Wilde?" I didn't peg him to be overly interested in literature. He shook his head.

"The Princess Bride. I only found out about Oscar Wilde after I met you." I laughed at this. A sense of humor is good.

We had a few moments of quiet. I considered asking about Simon, but after all the bad news I had received, I wasn't sure that I could handle any awful information regarding my best friend. What if he'd died? Or what if he hated me? What if I hated him? It was all so complicated, and I was scared of what I might find out.

I was about to ask him about where he grew up with his adoptive family, but he asked me something instead.

"I noticed you're still wearing your wedding ring," he said. I chewed my lower lip, and lifted my left hand.

"I wasn't really sure what to do with it, or how to go about it. It's too hard to think about what it means, so I'm just wearing it for now, until I can figure out what to do about it. I mean, my memory could come back yet I suppose?"

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to. That's perfectly fine, I understand."

I looked down at the band on my fourth finger. The ring that seemed to drag my hand down when I noticed it, the ring that I innately felt I had to wear, to remind me of the predicament I was in right now.  
I also felt I needed to wear it in respect to future Clary. Even though the idea of her makes me want to tear my hair out; just as much as I lost my future, she lost her present. I lost six years of my life, but she lost everything. Almost every trace of her is gone, except for the physical.

"No, I think I'm just going to wear it for now."

He nodded, trying not to look to pleased that I was wearing his ring. I was almost figuratively chaining myself to him. But what I know about amnesia from movies, is that you have a better chance of recovering some memories if you attempt to return to a fairly normal lifestyle – which I assumed I might have to try when I was well enough to leave the hospital.

I was just about to ask Jace about the extent of my injuries – I knew I had a head injury, and some damage to my abdomen, leading to the gaping hole in my stomach – but when I might be able to leave the hospital? And what sort of thing to expect at "our" home? However, there was a knock on the door and Dr. Branwell entered. Her face was smooth and impartial.

"It's time," she said. Jace's face went from relaxed and curious, to horrified and afraid in a second.

"No," he said firmly. "Not yet, please just give us a little more time."

My breathing hitched. The tension in the air was thick, and I wondered again if I was actually going to die.

"Jace, I'm sorry, but Clary deserves to know. She needs to know. And I can't ethically keep this information from her any more. She is conscious, lucid, and needs to be fully aware of her medical state." I felt myself start to panic. I wanted my mother, but she was not here. I instead took Jace's hand for support, needing something to anchor myself with. He closed his hand around mine, creating firm pressure.

Dr. Branwell looked directly at me.

"I'm sorry for scaring you Clary. But this information is important, and you're an adult, and need to be aware of your condition – especially as you have amnesia. This information will not be easy to process, however we do have counselors and psychologists available if you need to speak to someone.

Would you like for me to wait for your mother to come back before we discuss this information?"

I shook my head violently. Jace drew in a shaky breath, but I ignored him.

"No Dr. Branwell. Like you said, I'm and adult, and I deserve to know. It's my body. Please, I'm freaking out. Just give it to me straight."

If I thought my insides were twisted before, it was nothing compared to how they felt now. My stomach was in painful knots, and I felt like I might throw up again. I shut my eyes, focused on the pressure Jace's hand was putting on mine, and listened carefully.

"Clary," Dr. Branwell began slowly, "at the time of the accident, you were three months pregnant."

* * *

**I am so so so SO incredibly sorry! I have been tied up with my university finals, and then I went on placement, but now I'm finished, and on holidays for a few months now, so hopefully I'll be able to smash out some awesome writing for you!**

**Thank you so much for all your beautiful reviews, I really love receiving them, and reading through them. Please, keep reviewing!**

**Take it easy,**

**amayj**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments, and unfortunately am not affiliated with any of the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**


	5. Chapter 4

_"Who told us we'd be rescued?  
What has changed and _

_Why should we be saved from nightmares?_

_This is what it means to be held;_  
_How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life."_

**Held – Natalie Grant**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

My eyes snapped open at Dr. Branwell's statement, and panic bubbled up inside me. _Pregnant?_

"Clary, I'm so sorry, but you miscarried the baby due to the accident."

Jace's hand squeezed mine, and I yanked my hand out of his. I'd forgotten he was holding it.

This was too much. I mean, it was all awful, terrible and hard to digest, but this way just _too much. _How much did one person have to go through before they just dropped dead?

How does someone react to this information? I mean, I was carrying a life inside me, before the accident. And what am I supposed to say?

_Oh, that's sad. I lost a baby. Which is strange, because I don't even remember having sex._

How am I supposed to grieve for a baby I never knew?

I could hear Dr. Branwell speaking, but I shut her out. I'd had enough of what she was going to say. I shut my eyes tightly, and lay back against the pillows. I wasn't going to listen to anything anymore. I was just going to lay with my eyes shut until I was ready to process what I'd just heard.

I could hear someone saying what sounded like my name, touching my forehead, shaking my shoulder, but I kept my eyes decidedly clamped shut. I started singing songs in my head instead, and after a short while, the talking stopped. Not long after, a large hand took on of my own curled fists. I let it slide, definitively ignoring all outside contact. A smaller, softer hand took my other fist. I wondered if it was my mother.  
I decided just to assume it was, as that calmed me, imaging her stroking my hair and telling me it was all going to be okay. I relaxed, and after a while of determined ignorance of the information just given, I slipped into darkness.

* * *

When I awoke later, I could hear two nurses conversing outside my door. The door must have been open. I stayed still on my side, listening to what they were saying.

"I don't know what's wrong with her to be perfectly honest. If a gorgeous stranger came up to me and told me he was my husband I wouldn't be complaining. I'd gladly let him lead me by the hand into the perfect life I obviously was living to garner such a perfect stranger."

"It's easy to say that now, when some guy isn't coming around claiming to practically own you," another nurse drawled in response. She was obviously Southern. "Have you ever read a newspaper? Young women getting taken left right and center. I once read a book, where this woman woke up in a hospital with no memory. They found out that a movie star was her husband. But it turned out that she'd lost her memory running away from him cause he beat her up, but you wouldn't have thought it from looking at them. I guess you just can't know people."

I felt tears burn behind my eyes. I hadn't even gotten to this point in my thought processes regarding my situation.

I was still trying to wrap my head around the latest information I had received.

I had a husband.

I had a baby.

I lost a baby.

I lost the last of my teen years.

I lost six years of my life.

I've lost a lot.

I sniffed, and took a shaky breath.

"What is wrong with you?" A voice boomed, shocking me into opening my eyes. Her voice had lowered when she spoke again. "There is a young woman in there, who is confused and terrified, and you sitting here talking about how stupid she is, or about women who have been beaten up – how do you think this is going to help the situation?" I didn't recognize the voice. It was melodic, and soothing.

"Did you know that when you speak when a person is asleep, they still hear you, and can subconsciously process the information? What if Clary wakes up and is scared that Jace might hit her? Are you willing to take responsibility for that?"

There was a pregnant pause. I shut my eyes again.

"Jace would never lay a finger on Clary. He loves her more than anything. He believes that her life is worth more than his. You have no idea how much he's beating himself up, wishing that he was the one in the car.

He loves her, and I know they're going to be okay."

The woman with the beautiful voice stepped inside the room and closed the door gently. I heard her soft footsteps move closer to my bed. A hand brushing hair out of my face.

"I'm so sorry Clary. This should not have happened to you. Why do bad things happen to good people?" She sighed.

"And I'm scared about when you wake up, and don't recognize me. I know you won't. You didn't meet me until after Jace. But Clary, you're my best friend. And I miss you – when you're right here! And I know that it's not your fault."

I don't know how I feel about this. My stomach squirms at her words – Simon is my best friend, at least, the last time I checked. I don't know whether or not to "wake up" and find out who this person is, with their pretty words.

"We'll be friends again Clary. I'm sure of it."

She sat by my bed for a few minutes before the door opened. I heard a new voice – one of the many in the past few days.

"How is she? Still sleeping?" It was a soft, male voice.

"Yes. I think she's doing okay, I haven't heard anything else yet." Her hand covered mine briefly. "Do you think we're going to be okay Alec?"

"I don't know Izzy. I just–" he broke off momentarily.

"I'm so worried about Jace. He just doesn't know what to do. None of us do. And poor Clary is stuck in the middle of it all, with her memory gone."

Both of my visitors were silent, they only noise in the room being our combined breathing.

I couldn't believe how calm I was feeling to have a few complete strangers in a room with me. I guess I've just had so much weirdness in the past few days. So much confusion and sadness.

I'm still unsure if I should wake up and meet these people. But it's just too scary and confronting. I know that however I meet them, it won't be on my own terms anyway, but this is something I can choose. I can choose to not meet them now, can choose to listen to them speak about me and my life – see what they're like, and possibly what my life might be like.

It's nice to be actually able to choose something – even something as small and insignificant as to pretend to be asleep in front of strangers. I don't have much control over anything in my life anymore, so it's nice to make my own choice for once. Not that it matters, because the man – Alec – spoke again, and his thoughts seemed to be parallel to my own.

"Speaking of Clary's memory…should you really be in here? I know you miss her, but it might be two steps backward if she wakes up with two strangers in her room."

She – Izzy – sighed.

"I know. I was just about to leave when you poked your head in. It's just hard to leave her. But maybe she'll be well enough to see me soon. See us soon." She touched my forehead, and smoothed my hair.

I heard footsteps, and the door opened.

"We'll see you soon kiddo," The gentle masculine voice – Alec – said. And the door closed softly.

* * *

_3 weeks later…_

"Hey Clary, how are you doing?" I felt tears well up in my eyes as a familiar face walked through the door. I had spent so much time with people I was supposed to know, but didn't, it was nice to see a guy I actually knew. He looked older, and more tired than I remembered, but then again it technically had been six-ish years since I'd seen him. He ran a hand through his brown hair, which was greying around the edges. He was still wearing the same wire-rimmed glasses that I always remembered.  
Luke was basically my father. My father wasn't around much when I was growing up, but Luke was. He was my dad's best friend when he was growing up, and became great friends with my mum after she started dating my dad. When my dad up and left, Luke stuck around to help out my mum. They eventually started dating, and got married when I was 16.

When I was old enough to understand, I realized that Luke must have loved my mum even when my dad was still around. I've never really brought it up because it's not any of my business.  
I can't pretend that I wish my dad had stayed and watched my brother and me, Jonathon grow up, but then I wouldn't have Luke either, and that is too painful to think about.

But I often wonder what it would have been like if he had stayed. I wonder how Jonathon would have turned out. He had a bit of a troubled adolescence, run-ins with the law and ended up moving out while I was still in school.

I wonder if I've seen him since.

"Luke," I said, my voice coming out more breathy than I would've liked. I sat up in bed, being careful not to sit too fast and hurt myself. It was close to a month since I had woken up, but I was still sore, tenderness coming from the fact that I'd had another surgery to fix my abdomen, as well as a uterine evacuation. The thought itself was painful.

Yeah.

But I didn't want to think about that. I'd been dwelling on my miscarriage – it would have been a girl – since I'd found out about it, and I was just as confused and sad.

I was, however, more accepting of the fact that I'd lost my memories. I was spending a little time with Jace everyday (his visits getting less and less awkward, with me starting to appreciate his company), and my mother was by my side most days.

I still hadn't heard anything about Simon –which is very frustrating for me, however I don't know if I can take any more bad news at this point, so I've been putting off asking since finding out about the baby.

I still hadn't met the two strangers – Izzy and Alec – yet. But I've had plenty to occupy my mind at this point.

Luckily for my sanity, Dr. Branwell brought up releasing me from the hospital just this morning. I just had one last decision to make.

Luke came and gently hugged me, obviously being very careful.

"I'm so sorry I haven't been here. I was here when you were first in the accident, but had to leave before you woke up, because Amatis has been very sick. It's been bad news all around I'm afraid." I felt stricken – I hope Luke didn't put anything off with Amatis for me – when I was obviously fine, apart from my missing memories. My fear must have shown on my face, because he continued.

"She's alright Clary. You wouldn't remember, but about a year ago, Amatis had quite a severe stroke. She's been recovering, but she had a fall at home, and when recovering in the hospital contracted a golden staph infection. Because she's been in such poor health, she wasn't recovering well, and the family needed to be nearby in case of a sudden decline. So your mother and I decided – since you were stable – that I would go to Amatis. I hope you don't mind."

I shook my head, a smile on my face. How could I begrudge my step-father going to see his only sister, when I was doing okay and she wasn't? I took his hand and squeezed it slightly. He smiled down at me. I decided to take our conversation in a different direction, my segue topic? Siblings.

"Speaking of siblings…how is Jonathon going Luke? I don't think he's been by yet. But it's been six years, does he still not speak to us?" Luke smiled, seemingly satisfied by the progression of the conversation.

"He actually goes by Sebastian now. He got back on the straight and narrow – he was so afraid that he was going to turn out like your father…so he doesn't go by the name your father gave him." He smiled at me. "Lucky for you, your mother named you."

I laughed, glad that Jonathon – Sebastian, I guess, that'll take some getting used to – was back in my life, and that he was on track.

"He's travelling at the moment, in Europe somewhere. Your mother has spoken to him, and he wanted to jump on a plane straight after your accident, but she wouldn't let him. Even though the accident was bad, your prognosis was fairly positive. She didn't want him to uproot himself, and then to feel bitter later. It would be unfair to you."

I nodded, understanding where he was coming from. Although, it did sting a little that my only brother didn't come to my side when I was in need. But there seems to be plenty of people here for me, and I wouldn't want to give him the ammunition to fall off the straight and narrow – if he's susceptible.

"And…how does Jonath-Sebastian," wow, that feels weird coming out of my mouth, "feel about Jace? How do you feel about Jace?"

He paused for a few seconds, thinking. I held my breath. _They hated Jace. How did this happen?_

Luke saw my expression, and let out a nervous chuckle.

"Don't look so terrified Clary, I'm just organizing my thoughts."

I swallowed, and nodded. He began again.

"Well understandably, Sebastian hates Jace." Luke started. I sucked in a breath. I technically hadn't seen my brother in years (that I could remember) so I wasn't sure what to make of this information.

"I think it was more that, he came home, he was expecting his baby sister to be out on the porch waiting for him to come home – that everything would still be the same. But he'd been gone for a few years, and in that time, his baby sister had found someone else to wait on the front porch for." Luke smiled. "I actually think he was shocked to find that his baby sister was not only waiting, but kissing the boy on the front porch – in a metaphorical sense of course."

I snorted, and he laughed.

"Worst metaphor ever Luke! Do you mean that when he came home I had a boyfriend, and he was surprised that I'd moved on?"

"Actually," Luke began, "you were married to Jace by the time Sebastian came home. He never got to pull the 'scary big brother' act on Jace. Naturally, Sebastian was shocked, but he'd been out of touch for so long, only doing the occasional phone call check in. He never left any details for us to contact him, so we couldn't let him know. He hadn't called for over two years when he came home, and had only heard about Jace in passing. I've always though that he feels like Jace stole his sister – stole you.  
But he's just bitter, and he's getting over it. He hasn't found any fatal flaws in Jace's character if that's what you're getting at. But your brother wasn't always the best judge of character, as you know."

I nodded, chewing on the inside of my cheek. I asked my question again – the one that held more weight than my absent brother's opinion.

"But how do you feel about him? Jace, I mean?"

Luke had a glint in his eye when he answered.

"Oh, about the same as any father feels about the man who marries his daughter: cautiously optimistic. I hope that he will be your prince charming, but I'm ready to throw him through a wall at a moment's notice if the situation calls for it."

I laughed, but internally felt relief. If that was the worst that Luke could say about Jace…well it was just that. It could be much worse.

"Dr. Branwell has said I can leave in a day or so, if I'm feeling up to it." I said, fiddling with my blanket. "She says it may be helpful for my memory if I go and stay with Jace…you know…where I used to live."

I look up to Luke, to see him pondering this.

Luke is definitely the most levelheaded person I ever remember meeting. If anything could set my mind at ease about the possibility of living with an acquaintance, it would be Luke's seal of approval.

"Look, I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable situation Clary, but if it could be helpful… He is your husband, and you'll be safe there. Believe me when I say your mother and I would be around as much as you need, and you might be able to get to know some of your friends. Coming to live with your mom and me – well we'd be fine with it of course, but you'd probably be bored and lonely. Going back to your old life might…" his voice trailed off.

"But really its up to you." He finished. "I'm sorry I can be more useful, but you really have to make this decision for yourself."

Soon after that, he said his goodbyes, having another engagement, promising to help transition me to whatever life I chose.

"Just remember: your mother and I will always be here for you, and will always support you," he said.

And I was alone, with only my thoughts once more.

When did I get so grown up that my parents didn't make my decisions for me? When did I enter a world where they had next to no input in my life?

* * *

I was still thinking over the things I had talked about with Luke, when Jace came through my door once again.

"Hey Clary, how are you feeling today?" He asked, coming to sit beside my bed. I sat up properly, putting my hands on my thighs.

"I'm okay," I replied. "How was your day?"

It was always more interesting to hear about his day than mine. He wasn't spending every waking minute in the hospital, at my own request. It was more for my sanity that I'd asked him politely to go away, I couldn't stand him being around me all day every day, looking at me with the puppy dog eyes of a man who's wife didn't recognize him.  
And believe me, to some degree I feel sorry for him – but since I am said wife, I could only feel so much empathy before it just got weird.

But instead of telling me about his day today, he decided to jump straight into something I already knew, but wasn't sure about yet.

"Well, I was speaking with Dr. Branwell, and she was telling me that you're probably well enough to be discharged tomorrow," he said casually.

This was another weird thing. My parents had no rights, no idea as to my medical information. Just another one of the things that came with being 'Mrs. Jace'.

Everything they knew had to be relayed through Jace, or me and I wasn't always a good source because half the time I had no idea what they were saying, or trying to tell me.

"So I've heard," I replied to Jace. I knew what he was getting at, and he wasn't always pleased when I responded like this. He married me, so he can suck on it. I wanted him to say it – to say what he wanted.

"Well, I was just wondering where you think you'd like to go when you're released,"

He responded, his eyes locking with mine. I sighed.

"I'm not sure just yet Jace, I'm sorry. Dr. Branwell thinks it could be beneficial for my memory if I go back to my 'normal' life with you…it's just unknown, and scary." I answered, completely honestly. He nodded.

"I expected as much," he replied. "I'm not going to pressure you either way Clary. You know I'd like you to come home with me, obviously, but you need to feel safe and secure. And that it more important to me. You – you are all that matters."

I was getting used to him saying things like that. He seemed to say them all the time. They were sweet, and made me feel warm inside.

"When do I have to decide by?" I asked him. He smiled, obviously pleased by my consideration of my options.

"No deadline. You can decide ten minutes before we leave the hospital tomorrow. You can change your mind halfway to our place, or your parents' tomorrow. You can change your mind after ten minutes at one place. Or after one night. Whatever you want."

"Thank you," I said. I didn't need to say anything more, I instead reached one hand out to touch his. He held mine for a second, before allowing me to retract my hand.

One of the first things I had learned about Jace was that he was an incredibly physical person, enjoying simple touches. I tried to bear this in mind, especially when he was particularly good, or kind to me. He liked to hold my hand, or touch my arm. It's as far as I would let him, but the only thing he had tried. It was simple things like knowing my limits and discomforts, almost innately, that made me realize how well he actually knew me.

Something else he knew, was how bored I was in the hospital, and on his third or fourth visit, brought a deck of cards. We'd played cards during almost all his visits, which helped me learn about him too. We were able to talk, without the sole focus being on my memory being gone, and him knowing so much more about me than I knew about him – and possibly even knew about myself.

Once I wondered if he moved to accommodate me, in the same way the rings of Saturn always spun around, but never touched. Perfectly in sync.  
But I was also pretty drugged up at the time, and reminded myself that Saturn was a gas planet – probably not a great comparison.

Jace pulled out the pack of cards, and dealt. We'd played many different games, considering there is only two of us. He'd obviously thought about it and put effort into it. I suggested that we merge games – such as 'Strip Jack Snap', where you play 'Strip Jack Naked' but snap if two of the same cards come out. It was what we decided to play today.

For some reason, I couldn't help but think about our child. Our daughter. I'd thought about her a bit, and it usually made me pretty upset.

I mean, I'd never even wanted children.

But looking at Jace's face, I could only think about how beautiful a child of his would've been.

I could almost picture myself, playing happy families with this gorgeous man; see myself with him, holding a tiny, golden baby girl. Almost.

I couldn't even imagine how difficult losing the child had been for Jace. He had more of a connection to it than I had. I wouldn't let him be present at my uterine evacuation – I had asked for my mother. I was sure he was outside the room during the process though. And I don't even know if it had a funeral, or if we'd talked baby names, or anything.

"Clary?" His voice broke me from my reverie. I shook my head slightly, and smiled at Jace. He looked worried. "Are you alright? What were you thinking about?"

I felt the smile slip from my face.

"Yeah, I was just thinking…so much has happened, but I was just wondering what you had called…the baby." I couldn't say _our_ baby. I just couldn't get the words out of my mouth. In my mind, I didn't have a baby, just a hole in my brain, and the memory of an invasion into the core of my body.

He sighed, shutting his eyes briefly, as if to hide the pain from me. He looked back at me, his eyes clear, a tight smile on his face.

"You know, you were only three months along, but we knew. We'd talked about it." He said tightly. I didn't feel the pain the same way he did, but I could sympathize the loss of something great.

"We'd talked about names. We didn't exactly agree on it, but we had several months to work it out." He paused, swallowing.

"Darlene. Darlene Angelica. We'd talked about this name, and it was the closest name to what we had talked about. We'd talked about the name 'Darlene'… I wasn't too sure about the name it; if it was too old fashioned. But…you were right, as you often are. It's perfect. 'Darlene' means "tenderly loved" and 'Angelica' means "angelic". It sums up our daughter completely."

We were both silent.

After a few seconds he smiled at me, and played the first card.

"It's perfect." I croaked, my voice breaking. "Darlene Angelica. Darlene Angelica."

The perfect name for any little girl, a name that echoed finesse, with a meaning so carefully thought over and decided upon.

The sheer beauty of it made me want to be ill. It was almost disgusting how perfect Jace was.

"I'm glad you think so," he said.

Even with the name, Darlene Angelica, I did not feel any closer to it. My child. He reached out and touched my hand, and I let him. Him, in his mourning over his lost family, and me, sitting in my emptiness of my lost life.

We sat for a few minutes together in silence.

After those few minutes, we began playing cards, with Jace starting a lighthearted conversation. We ended up having a good laugh together, but the child I didn't know how to mourn over – didn't want to grieve over, continued to niggle in the back of my mind. It made me want to rip that part of my brain out.

I calmed, eventually. I still had a decision to make.

Jace stayed with me until visiting hours were over. I didn't want him to leave, more out of loneliness than anything else. However, I had one moment of pure clarity before he left, which helped me to make my decision as to where I would go when discharged the next day.

"Jace, I think I've decided about tomorrow…" I started. He sat up straight, giving me his full attention. I took a deep breath.

"I think I'm going to take Dr. Branwell's advice, and go home with you. I'm hoping it might be helpful with my brain, and some normalcy might be good for me." I paused briefly. "Maybe you can show me where I work, and maybe I could look at heading back? I don't think I can take much more of this sitting around," I finished.

His face was absolutely overjoyed, but I noticed he was keeping his reaction fairly controlled, probably for my benefit.

"I'm very pleased that you have decided, Clary. And I'm glad you're coming with me. But please, if you…don't treat this as a binding contract. If you change your mind, just let me know."

I nodded.

"And I will definitely take you to your gallery, and introduce you to some of your friends – we don't need to have you at home, sitting around. You've done enough of that here."

I smiled at that.

"But Jace…could you please…make sure there's no baby stuff lying around when I come?"

His eyes softened.

"Of course Clary. We didn't really have anything, it was too soon, but I will make 100 percent sure."

I felt a little guilty that he thought I was in some state of grief or sadness, when the reality was that it made me feel ill, and I just wanted to forget all about it.

Jace stood up to leave.

"I'm really glad you're giving me a chance – giving us a chance." He said, slowly bending down to kiss me lightly on the top of the head. He squeezed my hand before turning and leaving the room.

I was glad he was happy, but I felt a little guilty over his last words – I was making this decision more out of loneliness and fear of boredom, than wanting to spend time with my husband.

* * *

** Happy holidays guys! Can you believe it's nearly 2013?**

**This chapter took a little longer than I would have liked, but I've been unwell the past few weeks. But it's here now! Sorry if there are any errors, I was having trouble proof-reading. I kept trying to change things that were fine, so I'm worried I've missed things that I have done wrong!**

And thank you for all your lovely reviews, your positive feedback has been wonderful. Please keep reviewing!

**I have had a new idea for another story, which hopefully you'll see soon! Although, I won't be posting it until I get more consistent at posting chapters for this story, it's only fair!**

Anyway, in the next chapter, Clary gets to go home from hospital…and we'll see how that goes.

**Unfortunately, I may not be able to post a new chapter until halfway through January. I'm going on vacation, and I'm not sure I'll have any internet access, but I will try and write the next chapter while I'm away. **

**However, I have three teasers for the next chapter! And anyone who reviews my story, will receive one of these teasers – they're only short, but hopefully will peak your interest for the next chapter!**

**The first teaser is a glimpse of Clary speaking to someone she hasn't spoken to yet.**

**The second teaser is a glimpse of information on a certain character.**

**The third teaser is a moment of drama in the Wayland household. **

**If you don't specify, I'll just give you one at random :) **

**Also, I have a twitter and a tumblr (which can be found on my profile). I haven't posted any teasers or spoilers so far, but if by popular demand, I totally would!**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Take it easy,**

**amayj**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments, and unfortunately am not affiliated with any of the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**


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